Ungloved
by Shibalyfe
Summary: Hagrid deals with his anger and grief at Sirius. This was written for The Houses Competition, Y5R2.


House/Team: Gryffindor

Class Subject: Care of Magical Creatures

Story Category: Drabble

Prompt: [Object] A pair of gloves

Beta: Tiggs and Seth

Word Count: 844

A/N: Slight AU. We know (emotionally) Hagrid seems to be level-headed but I think the way he acts during this story can accurately reflect how anyone could react when dealing with a betrayal. This story was written for The Houses Competition, Y5R2.

Ungloved

Hagrid looked down at the floor, his shoulders heavy with sadness, before staring at the doors in front of him. Dumbledore had given him the task of going through the vaults of the lost Order members to ensure that anything of value was kept within the Order. He had just been through the Potter's vault and had confiscated the invisibility cloak and a few other items of value. He had already gone through Peter Pettigrew's vault, and now he was standing in front of Sirius Black's vault. He hadn't expected to be so overcome with sadness and anger. He almost didn't want to enter the vault for fear of what he might find, but Dumbledore had given him a task to do.

Hagrid gave a heavy nod to the goblin, who ran his nail down the center of the door. It opened with a loud thud. Hagrid stepped inside hesitantly, fearful of traps.

He silently and carefully moved through the items stacked in the vault. There didn't seem to be anything of importance. There were family heirlooms and Galleons littered throughout the vault. Hagrid looked around the dark vault, noting nothing of importance—until he notcied something shining in the pale candlelight. He made his way towards the corner, spotting Sirius' motorbike. He grinned; this was something he could use, for official order business, of course.

He slowly opened the saddlebags and sifted through the contents. He pulled everything out one at a time: empty scrolls, Galleons and Knuts, a riding helmet, and riding gloves. He discarded the items one at a time, but hesitated with the gloves. The worn black leather was smooth in his hands and he was instantly overcome with anger again as he replayd the moment that Siruis had received these gloves.

James had given these gloves to Sirius two years earlier. He had asked Hagrid to get them since they had already been in hiding at the time. He had been at the small party the Order had thrown when Sirius had received them. He had seemed overjoyed with the small gesture. Hagrid hadn't seen him without the gloves since that day; they had become a part of him.

Hagrid quickly moved to another part of the vault before his emotions overwhelmed him. He had to fight back the tears that prickled at the corners of his eyes. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and moved to a stack of boxes sitting along the smooth rock wall. He cautiously opened the topmost one. Inside the smiling and laughing faces of Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter stared back at him.

Hagrid slowly pulled out the photo; the magical image played out before his eyes. Sirius slapped James on the back and threw his head back, laughing so hard that his whole body shook. Sirius turned to Remus and hooked his arms around them both, genuine happiness radiating from their faces. Hagrid tossed the photo back into the box and ran out of the vault.

He ran to the edge of the cliff, his heart beating in his chest. He struggled to catch his breath. He stared at the leather gloves still held in his hands. They looked so small in his giant hands but the enormity of who they represented, of who they had once belonged to, was huge. He gripped them tightly, suddenly seething in anger.

They had trusted him completely; he had been their child's godfather and Sirius had even stayed at the Potter's house when he'd been disowned. How could he betray his friends like that?

Hagrid had considered Sirius a friend; he had considered them all his friends. His heart thumped with anger and grief. He could feel the pressure build behind his eyes. How could they all have been so blind? There was never any indication of his dark ways; they had all trusted him with their lives. The Potters had paid for it, Peter Pettigrew had paid for it, and the rest of the Order had suffered for it.

Hagrid crushed the gloves in his fist and punched the mountainside. He let out his frustrations and anger. He couldn't take it out on Sirius because he was now locked away in Azkaban, but he could take it out on his things.

He stormed back into the vault, his steps determined. His hands were stinging and his knuckles were bleeding as he grabbed the boxes of pictures and threw them against the wall. The false memories of Sirius and his friends flew across the floor. Hagrid watched as the box slid across the floor, scattering happy pictures in its wake. The sight enraged him even more. He grabbed the gloves and pulled at the fingertips, satisfied with the sounds of the seams ripping apart. He kept shredding the gloves until there was nothing left but a pile of leather on the ground. He picked up the scraps and ran to the edge of the mountain again, throwing what remained of the gloves, and Sirius, down the mountain and into the fiery pits below.


End file.
